Promised Vengeance
by Shadowed Violin
Summary: I have hidden what I am for three hundred years; for if the other spirits knew...I would find a way to be the first immortal to die. I've been confused, worried, unsure, angry, terrified...and yet...in this silent, still moment, it's just the voices intertwining like desperate lovers, keening and mourning. Just the wind, a violin, and I...promising vengeance. [Female Jack Frost.]
1. The Promise

Promised Vengeance

Chapter One;

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Disclaimer; I do not own Rise of the Guardians.

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Jacqueline's POV;

The Wind blew once more, a sad, dreary sound. Were I human, or even normal, I might've commented on how the cold seeped into my bones.

But I wasn't.

And I'm not.

Again, the Wind howled through the trees, tearing at the branches savagely; an enraged woman of nature, dressed in stray leaves and wandering grains of earth.

Sighing, I flipped up my baby-blue hoodie and stood up. The night was beautiful; luminescent stars and glowing moonlight; scurrying creatures and lonely keens.

It was peaceful, and sad, and all too quiet…

This was my world; just a frozen lake, the snow, the uninterrupted surrounding land.

An owl hooted, the cry piercing the silence abruptly. Turning, I gazed into twin golden orbs of wisdom. The owl blinked at me from its perch, then took off in a flurry of feathers- most likely in search of a meal.

Idly, I threw my staff into the air, then caught it and spun it around.

Who am I?

I am Jacqueline Frost, and I deceive all who meet me.

And yet, the world knows me as Jack Frost.

An attention-seeking boy who plays pranks and has no worries.

They are wrong.

On all accounts.

I don't know why they thought I was a boy, or even how they came to that conclusion- it's not like the humans can see me.

As for the Spirit World, no one has ever bothered to give me a second glance. But they don't oppose letting their hate say 'hello'.

I am a nuisance.

A pest.

An undeserving brat the Man in the Moon made, obviously by accident.

They _detested _me. With _every fibre _of their beings.

Every time they saw me I was greeted by fists, by claws, and enraged words.

I was left beaten, both emotionally and physically. They would grab me, and torture me.

With whatever their sick minds could cook up.

Fire.

Knives.

Drowning.

Isolation.

Oh so many times I would stare at the Moon and wonder…_why?..._

Why did you resurrect me?

Why do you ignore me?

Why do they hate me so?

Why am I alone?

Why am I Winter?

Why won't you answer me?

And not once, in all of my immortal years, had I ever received a reply.

They hated me.

Why, I knew not.

But at least I was smart enough to know; never let them _see._

_They must never, ever know that I am female._

It was hard; hiding who I was, but it was both a blessing and a curse. I knew that if they saw…

I would _find _a way to be the first immortal to die.

Every time they came too close to knowing, a feeling would swell up inside of me, one that I couldn't identify. Panic? Fear? Rage?

Whatever it was, it brought power with it.

One moment, I was weak; powerless; the skin of my back red ribbons, my shirt just a mangled mess, and the next, my eyes were blazing blue fire, Wind tearing the room apart, my torturers thrown against rock walls and covered in growing ice. I would rise into the air; frost cackling at my fingertips, the blood of my body turning into ice, funnelling my rage.

My hate.

Because of them, my body was covered in white scars; how they mocked me, those permanent reminders.

Because of them, I had to bind my chest until it hurt.

Because of them, my hair was covered in a beanie and always hidden underneath my hoodie.

Because of them, my psych was broken.

_Because of them…_

My feet, dainty and pale, left soft imprints on the snow. I kept on walking aimlessly; forever alone, lost…

The texture beneath my feet changed, and, gazing down, I saw where I had taken myself- subconsciously, my mind had automatically gravitated to the only place I felt safe; my lake.

It seemed my tormentors at least had the decency to leave me one place of solitude, where I knew I would be left alone.

Ironic, wasn't it? A girl who wants to be left alone, and yet, she longs for a family.

_Or at least a friend…_

My reflection in the ice glared back at me; piercing grey-blue eyes that were tired and sad; angry and confused. Long ebony lashes, strong black brows. Soft lilac lips, smooth white skin that reminded me of milk, and a scar…

It ran from my temple to just above my jaw. Luckily, it didn't intercept my mouth or eye.

_Luckily…_

It had long since faded into a shade or two paler than my normal skin, but it would eternally mar my body. My eyebrows scrunched together, the lips above a delicate chin trembling slightly.

_No…_

Not today.

Not again.

I would _not _give them the satisfaction of knowing that they had made me cry. Ripping off my hoodie, I tore off the beanie and threw it across the lake, allowing my hair to flow free.

The Wind picked up, toying with my long snowy locks. The hair reached to below my waist, not quite straight and not quite curly, just playful. It was pure white; the only thing that had not yet been stained scarlet. I inhaled deeply, the tight feeling in my chest loosening.

_Not enough._

I pulled the T-shirt that resided underneath my hoodie off, and removed the bindings. Dressing in the shirt again, I placed the precious bindings into the pocket of my hoodie.

Then I stared back down at the ice; defiant.

_This is me._

_This is me._

_This is me._

_This is me._

_This is me._

A small smile flickered across my face, but I was still shaky; still…

_confused, _

_scared,_

_worried,_

_unsure,_

_angry,_

_terrified,_

_terrified,_

_terrified!_

_Please, just leave me alone._

_What did I do?_

Leave me alone.

The trembling increased, and I clenched my fists.

_No._

_Nononononononononononononono…_

_I need to calm down. _Breathe.

In, out, in, out...

_Not working!_

Running to the nearby tree that was enshrouded in shadows, I dug my hand into the gaping hole of its withered trunk and then gently removed one of its two precious possessions…a single instrument.

The violin was made of ice, engraved with minute details and expertly carved into an elegant shape. A few cracks scattered it here and there, only adding to its ancient beauty. The light danced off of it, frost crackling around it with a thrumming energy that couldn't be caged. Glowing slightly, it sat in my hands, entrancing. I stroked the strings, relishing the feel of the only thing that wasn't ice on it. Carefully, I laid it out onto a small lump of snow, turning on my heel to face the tree. Once again I dipped my hand into the trees' heart, and removed the bow. It too was made of ice, except for the strings. I held it in my hand as I had learned to all those centuries ago, curving my palm around it as if it were a softball. Then I picked up my beloved instrument. Walking back to the centre of the lake, I gazed up at the Moon, nestled the violin underneath my chin, set the bow, and then I played…

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The Wind's POV;

_Child, _I sighed. Ruffling my little ones' hair in a futile attempt to get her to have some fun, _play, come play? Just for a little while?_ I shot through her long white hair, toying with it and throwing it around. I watched as her tiny little face- _So small, little one is so small! Why so tiny, my little winter child? - _darkened as she glared down at the ice.

_No, little one, _I huffed sadly. _Not that. No…_

But it was too late. Her eyes grew damp, a single stray tear escaping its flinty blue cage. The tear trickled down her cheek, glistening in the dim light. I shot towards it and wrapped myself around that tiny drop of moisture _before she saw, saw what she did. _

_Not for them, little one._

_Anyone but them. _

Curled around the drop, I blew away, in the direction of the trees, tearing through them viciously.

_They _did this.

Made my little one sad.

Flying back towards her, I saw her sprint towards the wise-tree-that-had-lived-long.

_Aah, _I heaved a breath of air as I writhed inside the braches.

_Sing with the ice, little one._

_What song, say I?_

I followed her as she found her usual spot in the middle of the frozen-ice-water-land.

She stared up at the Moon. I snorted. _Not there. _

_You know he won't answer. That man…he better be glad he's so far away, hiding among the distant-lights-that-shine-at-dark. One day Wind shall find Moon. _

_Then we'll…_play. _My game of let's-see-how-long-men-can-survive-in-agony._

My little snowflake shook her head and placed the ice-box-with-strings at her throat, then set the ice-stick on it. I settled in front of her in anticipation.

_Singsingsingsingsingsingsingsingsingsingsingsing!_

Little one dragged the ice-stick down slowly, releasing the ice-box-with-strings' voice. I shivered in delight.

_Againagainagainagainagain!_

Once more she slid the ice-stick up, then down, picking up a rhythm.

Sighing, I swayed. The music flowed around me, encompassing all. Haunting, sad, desperate, lonely…she poured her feelings out into the song. Gazing at her, pride shot through me.

She twisted with the music, her song picking up in tempo, going _faster and faster_.

Eyes closed, brows drawn…she was riveting.

Terrifying. Enchanting. Otherworldly.

Her mouth opened, her-voice-within-her-body flowing out, soft and sharp all at once.

Together, the two voices rose, intertwining, and I rose with them, dancing with her pain and sadness, adding my own. I bashed the branches in time, blew the snow across the land, screamed in fury.

The forest thrummed and sang with us, the trees quaking, the animals shaking.

Faster, faster.

Higher, higher.

And suddenly; the strongest note yet; breaking free of the ice-box-with-strings and clawing its way to freedom, screaming truth.

It quivered in the now-still air, reverberating. I stared down at my snowflake, who stood stock-still.

Her eyes slid open slowly, twin flaming orbs of blue fire.

_Defiant._

The note rose higher still, a keening, sad sound.

But promising…

Promising vengeance.

_Vengeance._

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**This is ****_not_**** the prize for Jessica North (65****th**** reviewer). This is me writing something when I should be writing something else.**

**Not sure if I should continue this. Thoughts?**

**Review please!**

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~Shadowed Violin~


	2. The Infamous Jack Frost

Promised Vengeance

Chapter Two;

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Disclaimer; I do not own Rise of the Guardians.

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Bunnymund's POV;

We - meaning the Guardians - had all heard of the infamous 'Jack Frost', of course.

He who was responsible for blizzards on the other Spirits' holidays.

Who openly _mocked _the Children of Nature.

How he was dangerous, and a happy-go-lucky, worry-free teenager that pranced around everywhere as if the world were his, and everyone beneath him.

Why, some went so far as to whisper that he didn't care about the _children._

'_Trickster,'_ they muttered beneath their breaths. '_Cruel, selfish, brat.' _

_'He leaves a blazing trail of trouble in his wake.'_

And yet, I couldn't help but respect this mysterious 'Jack Frost'; for trouble he may be, but his prowess in battle was superior to practically all who dared to cross his path.

We had all heard the stories- how Spirits had gone up to him and kindly and in a respectful tone asked him to '_Please, don't cause any mischief today. Think of the young ones!' _ but he had whirled round in a fit of anger, his cruel ocean-indigo eyes glimmering with rage..._'Oh,' _they had sighed in sadness, '_how he had brandished that gnarled piece of wood, bared his teeth in a fierce snarl, and attacked us! With no incentive, no warning…And when we merely tried to defend ourselves, he redoubled his efforts! The trees had quaked in their roots with fear; the sky darkened with dreary premonitions…how the wind had howled through the trees- tearing through them savagely! Roaring its defiance that these Spirits _dare _to confront her Dark Master.'_

Oh yes, I could respect him- for his strength, his courage, his insufferable attitude to all.

But that doesn't mean I don't despise him just as much.

An immortal teenager who thinks he's better than everyone else, and looks out for nobody but himself. Jack, the boy who was given a second chance by the Man in the Moon, and spurned that very gift, thrust it into ground with a vicious swipe, crushed it with the heel of his corpse-white foot…

And yet, at the edge of my mind…

…a niggling of _doubt…_

Who was I to judge? I had never met this 'Spirit of Winter'.

All I had heard were rumours, hushed sentences under the dark cover of night…

But _so many_ immortals had _sworn _on their eternal existences that it was _true, all true! _

_'That evil fiend! That unjust monster! That mistake of nature! Pest! Freak! Destroyer of good!' _they had proclaimed to all. '_Oh, how evil he was! To bear revenge on us for our pleading speeches! And the whole time, my fellow immortals, he had chuckled! With great guffaws of laughter- his eyes that of a demons! Oh, how my heart trembles with fright, for that evil childs' eyes had glown with an unnatural luminescent blue-the scorching flame of the hottest hell! The Wind had screamed, the animals driven into the safety of their humble abodes; the waters of nearby lakes and rivers had sloshed over and thrashed in their basins of earth…!' _said the Prophets of our World.

And still…I doubted…

He was _but a child…_

and I a Guardian.

Was it not my _duty _to see the Hope of children? To nurse it and let it bloom and thrive with that precious emotion?

_How could he be evil?_

So young…

Improbable.

Impossible.

'_No, Bunnymund!' _they had exclaimed when I had presented my thoughts on the matter. '_He's insidious, insubordinate, and insupportable! That child_- _that _Devil_- instigates violence at every chance he gets…trust me, friend, for my word is irrefutable…It's irrevocable- that boy is Evil in all sense of the word. Consolidate your thoughts against his manipulative skills.' _And so they had clapped my shoulder and sighed in worry – for _me_ – they had assured me.

Just a child.

_A demon._

Never met him.

_Don't need to._

Only rumours.

_Legends._

Incalculable to think.

_Word of mouth._

All he needs is guidance.

_MiM tried. And failed. _

That may not be true.

_As the ground beneath your feet is not true?_

"Bunny…"

My thoughts raced on, one leading to the next, a domino effect of mental energy.

"Bunny."

_What if-?_

"Bunny!"

_No, not likely…_

_Perha- _"BUNNY!" The loud shout jolted me out of my thoughts, back to reality. I lifted my head from within my hands, where it had lain for the duration of my brainstorm. Gazing around in disorientation, unsure of who had screamed my name so loudly, my eyes came to rest on Tooth. She sat before me on another one of leather couches that resided in the Globe Room. Curiosity adorned her face, a small, unsure smile gripped the sides of her mouth, and her famous violet eyes were slightly widened in what seemed to be worry. "Are you alright, Aster?" she asked in a quiet, soft voice.

"Yeah, ahm fine. Jus' thinkin' 'bout that Winter Spirit again." I reassured her.

Her shoulders slumped a little. "You too?" she whispered. "I can't get him out of my head…I just don't know _what_ to think…"

Sighing in agreement, I said, "Ah know. Me too."

"It's been three hundred years…why have we only started hearing about the child now? Seems a little bit…_odd…_don't you think? It's like they're-" She hesitated, "_hiding _him…"

I chewed my lip in contemplation. "Yeah- yeah, that's what it feels like." I agreed.

"So," she continued.

I raised my eyes to hers- there was a glimmer, a _hint_ of something in those odd-coloured orbs. "So," I replied, a small smile flitting across my furry face as I caught onto what she was silently suggesting.

"We gonna do something about it?"

_"Hell yeah_ we are." My voice was the steel of determination.

_Oh, yes. The Guardians have indeed heard of the infamous Jack Frost._

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**So, this 'one-shot' got quite a warm welcome. Therefore, it is now a story.**

**Thank you ****_very _****much to all who reviewed / favourite/ followed this story! I hope you love this chapter! (: Chapters will be lengthened from now on.**

**Please review.**

~Shadowed Violin~


	3. Not Snowflake, But Flame

Promised Vengeance

Chapter 3;

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Disclaimer; I do not own Rise of the Guardians. Songs/ poems featured in this chapter include; Robert Frosts' 'Fire and Ice', as well as 'La Seine', from the movie 'A Monster in Paris', and a small poem done by me- the final part of the 'spell'.

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Jacqueline's POV;

I was dancing, twirling within the flurry of snow that rained down from the heavens. The air was crisp, the world deathly silent. The Wind danced with me, my only partner for so many centuries.

I could feel the music, the pulse of energy that presided everywhere.

It was life.

The snap of a branch, the coo of a bird, the trees shivering in their roots.

And I danced.

The Wind lifted me up and tipped me backwards in an elegant dip. I could almost _hear _her accompanying giggle as I laughed, truly happy in this moment of peace.

That joyfulness dimmed; for it was the new moon…

But then returned once more, reluctant to leave my soul – a soul that _needed, wanted…_

Quietly, my voice poured out from my mouth, gentle and low at first, but slowly getting stronger, louder…

* * *

The Wind's POV;

Little Snowflake danced in the crystalized air, more beautiful than any creature. She was perfect…

Delicate, yet strong. Proud, yet humble. Kind, yet firm.

She was my child, my Little One.

Yes, she is young, but so wise…

Her laughter filled the air, and I was glad that they hadn't taken that away from her. One day, I will find a way to make them pay…

But not today.

_Not today._

Not now, as Snowflake twirled joyously, finally at liberty for a few breaths of air.

The forest thrummed with a hidden, powerful life-force of its own, and I wrapped myself around everything I could reach. The-age-old-spirit-veins of trees quivered from within their cocoon of earth, straining against their cage of dirt. The Night stared down at us, wrapping us in his velvet coat of darkness. The distant-lights-that-shone-at-dark glimmered in jealousy, knowing they could _never_ compare with Little One.

My daughter.

I sighed a world-weary sigh, silently mourning the loss of those wispy tresses of the lightest shade of pearl; she had hidden them. _Again. Oh, how they make her hide, why do they do so? Why, why, why?_

Jacqueline floated gracefully down, petite feet resting against the mirror-like face of the glistening, frozen lake. A breath of air escaped those cupid-bow lips as she stared down at the unyielding ice. Sinking down onto her knees, she pressed her hands onto the ice in concentration, a small smile playing at her lips. I whirled around her in a flurry of motion, confused.

_Why does Snowflake greet the frozen-water-that-gave-birth-to-Winter?_

Licking her lavender-tinted lips, her strong black brows drew together in concentration as she pushed her small digits against the lake with more force. I leaned in closer, curious.

And suddenly, I knew.

_Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!_

Little One was so clever, bright little Snowflake.

Little One could make the lifeless moisture _live._

Oh, how magnificent the sight!

_Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!_

To see that cold, hard ice pulse. The cracks would slither across the surface of the frozen body, carrying _power _with them. Those very crevices – tiny little chasms – would glow…and then…

_Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!_

I focused my attention on Snowflake.

All was still; silent with anticipation. The air around her ivory hands was beginning _flutter…_move with a force that wasn't _me_.

And just as I knew it would happen, but never ceased to amaze me, brilliant blue fire burst into existence, encompassing, _devouring _those child-like hands of hers. The element writhed around her arms, clawing its way up to her elbows, stretching itself as it breathed with new life.

Wild as an ocean, it throbbed with _life. _

The fire-that-did-not-burn dripped downwards, slipped onto the ice, glowing with the magnificence that only Little One could create.

With a loud screech, the ice _broke. _

The mirror-like dead-frozen-water-body was shattered. The fire glowed brighter, eager, _knowing. _

The element grew, stretching, _reaching. _Then, with a speed only comparable to me, it engorged the tiny chasms that had been created just moments before.

Every crack of broken ice was now filled to the brim; teeming with that fire-that-did-not-burn.

I reared back, eager to fully _see _the magnificence that had been born by Snowflakes' strength.

A tree was what greeted my roving form.

Not the wise-tree-that-had-lived-long, nor the young-saplings-just-birthed, but an otherworldly tree created from ice, the fire-that-did-not-burn, and Little One.

Its branches were a complicated web of cracks, its leaves glowing blue fire. And its heart was Jacqueline.

_Winter, make Winter's Spring! _I cried out voicelessly.

And just as I had silently commanded, my Snowflake raised her arms, remnants of blue fire forming ethereal gloves, and invoked the spell.

_Create life, create life, create life, create life, create life!_

"I feel alive when I'm beside  
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine  
From this angle like an angel  
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine,"

Her voice-within-her-body, velvet, lilting, filled with indescribable emotion as she poured her _will_, her _want _into the lyrics.I caught my breath, wanting to join with _that voice_, to never leave, forever melded to such perfection…

And so I did. Together, we sang, my rough timbre complementing the sweet softness of personified _need, want, pain, loss, uncertainty, bravery, love, forgiveness, hate, joy, wonder, bewilderment, amazement…_

_Truth._

"I don't know, don't know, so don't ask me why  
That's how we are, the Seine and I  
I don't know, don't know, so don't ask me why  
That's how we are, the Seine and I,"

Silence reigned, and then her delicate, haunting voice-within-her-body poured out once more-

"Upon the bridge,"

And I answered in my brittle scream of breath, "_My heart does beat,"_

"Between the waves,"

_"We will be saved,"_

"The air we breathe,"

"_Can you believe?"_

"Learn to forgive upon the bridge

That's how we are, the Seine and I

That's how we are, the Seine and I

That's how we are, the Seine and I

That's how we are, the Seine and I."

_We will be saved, _I sighed.

_We will be saved,_

_we will be saved,_

_we will be saved._

The Night was still, the Moon was hiding – faceless coward – the fire-that-did-not-burn dying out.

I waited, _knowing, _as the fire-that-did-not-burn had known.

The Forest knew, too. Silent were they, motionless in anticipation.

Still, how it shocked me, as the entire Forest, Snowflake's _haven_, was enslaved with ethereal light- the exact shade of her flinty eyes when enraged.

Everywhere, _everywhere, _existed that ferocious shade of the hottest fire…

It snaked into the air, grasping fingers of flame reaching for that hidden deity – that scared pale orb – that Man in the Moon.

How I wished I could join them in their hate.

But I stayed, stayed next to Snowflake, although she was anything _but _fragile.

No, not a snowflake.

A shard of deadly ice.

A beautiful frozen rose.

A wild, untameable wolf.

A wise-tree-that-had-lived-long.

A flame of the coldest fire.

_Yes, _I mused.

Flame. My little Flame- strong, bound to no-one but herself, vibrant…brave. Fierce. Untouchable.

Untouchable she may be, but beauty be hers. The handsomeness of a _True Heart, _a _True Pain, True Song, True Power._

My Flame, indeed. Forever burning, forever fighting.

I stared once more, in awe at what Flame had done.

The Forest was enshrouded with the daughters and sons of daughter of mine. My Flame's Flames.

They panted, tumbled, climbed and flickered.

A Forest of Fire.

Flames of Ice.

Daughters and sons of the Daughterless, the Sonless.

They cavorted, glowing with a light of their own, born from the Truest Light- Flame's.

Brighter than any Moon.

Any light-that-shone-at-dark.

Any Sun.

Flame began the end of the invocation,

"Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say in ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favour fire.  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate  
To say that for destruction ice  
Is also great  
And would suffice."

The ice-children-of-Flame paused, then leaned in close, a luminescent mass of breathing fire.

And so my child finished,

"Oh, coldest fires,

Burning desires,

Answer my call,

Please do not stall,

Rise as your spirits should,

Free to live in these woods."

Those very same ice-children-of-Flame grew bigger, into unimaginable size, until all that existed was _fire, fire, fire…_

A Hell whose name was actually Heaven, her sibling known as Haven.

Blue.

Blue.

Blue.

Encompassing, pulsing, beating…

Living…

In.

_Out._

In.

_Out._

The brilliant blue fire breathed.

Once more it breathed, but did not stop, stretching, reaching…

And exploding into a universe of stunning sensual indigo, into a thousand shades of those flinty blue eyes…

Raining drops of the coldest flame into the ground.

Those seeds of _fire…_

Hell dissipated, burrowing into the Earth, leaving us…_warm. _

My non-existent heart throbbed in sadness, wanting that cold fire _back, come back! _

I stared down at Flame.

How heavy she breathed, a statue fashioned from frozen _Truth. _

She was waiting, I knew, as I had known before.

Oh, how I knew.

Anticipation was the new beat of the Forest as we awaited once more; how many times had we stilled in this fracture of time?

Those seeds of frozen flame were changing, breaking free from their physical bonds, the spirits killed by Winter finally being born again.

This ritual was done by my Mistress, my Flame…How merciful was she, to give them life again, to do what no other Winter had deigned to do before?

_Yes, those fires-that-did-not-burn are souls…_

Flame, my kind Little One, on every new moon would invoke this ritual, turn those lost, wandering spirits into fire-that-was-ice, saturating those souls with her power so that she could turn them into their Truest Truth, allowing them to break free from their human shackles - the regrets, the grief, the pain, the reluctance – into spirits which were _not lost, not confused, not wandering. _

They would Accept.

They would Move On.

And they would be Born Again.

Winter – my _child- _had created a Winter's Spring! She had planted seeds of icy fire, and now they would _bloom…_

Yes, my mistress was kind.

My daughter.

Abruptly, the Earth began to quake, shivers of delight running through it as it revelled in the fact that once more it would give birth, to not one delicate child of nature, but _thousands _of True Souls.

Pillars of pure white light launched themselves into the sky, leading the way to _their _Heaven, _their _Haven.

And those tiny blue seeds of icy flame were transformed from their houses of potential – of shelter - into majestic children of Death.

From fire, to seeds, into spirits – the transparent form of their child self their new body.

Glowing faintly in the Night, they slowly floated out of the Earth, staring around themselves in shock.

In amazement.

_Yes, yes, yes! _I chanted. _Be amazed, be thankful, be awed at what my daughter has done for you- out of her _own _free will! _

She _did this. _

She _did this. _

She _did this. _

_Be glad, glad, glad!_

Jacqueline stepped forth, frost curling at her feet like an eager puppy.

"Spirits!" she cried out.

They stopped and stared at her, different emotions splayed across their faces.

"Tonight, you have been born again! Free from this realm of misery, of pain…Go forth, to your Havens, be born for a fourth time, and live once more! Make not the mistakes you made in this lifetime…learn to love, be at liberty…Go, now, and be joyous!" she ended, a truly True smile adorning her lips.

The souls stared at her, youthful faces, but aged thoughts.

As one, they touched their 'hearts', then brought their hands away, pointing at Flame. _Thank you…_Faces twisted with emotion, the spirits repeated the gesture several times.

A single crystalized tear ran down Little Ones' face. Only the Spirits of the Dead said 'Thank you'.

And so the old-children-of-Truth rose, climbing their respective pillars of pure white light, to their Havens.

The Forest released a sigh.

My Little Ones' knees buckled, both hands clasped over her heart.

Nothing lived. All was dark. And all was as it should be; free.

But then again, Little One was not free…

Flame's tormentors hunted her, afforded her no mercy, as she afforded others that very gift.

_But now she has respite, _I thought.

_Yes, they leave her be. For now._

Any yet, as I swirled above her, absorbing the Truth of what had just occurred, a noise broke the freedom, the silence, the dark.

And _real _fire –burning demons! – grew around us, ensnaring Flame – my Little One! – in a cage of cruel red, orange, and yellow.

_Trapped, trapped, trapped, trapped, trapped, trapped!_

_NO!_

But it was a Truth; my child was _ensnared!_

I screamed in absolute rage, the emotion consuming me-

**_THEY _**HAD COME!

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**Late, I know. Sorry. *Bites lip apologetically.***

**Hope you loved this chapter! Please vote on my poll whether this story should be a Bunny and Jacky romance story, or just a friendship fic. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/ favourite/ are following Promised Vengeance.**

**Thanks, and****_ please_**** review! It makes me SUPER happy when I see even ****_one _****tiny review, they're so amazing to get!**

~Shadowed Violin~


	4. Exposed

Promised Vengeance

Chapter Four

By; Shadowed Violin

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Disclaimer; I don't own Rise of the Guardians. Obviously.

Poem/s featured; 'Fire Ferocious' by Mark Raymond Slaughter, 2009. (Brilliant poet, in my opinion.) And the little saying, **_Words are empty, although they have plenty _**is mine.

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Previously; (Wind.) _And real fire –burning demons! – grew around us, ensnaring Flame – my little one! – in a cage of cruel red, orange, and yellow._

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Jacqueline's / Flame's POV;

There's fire.

And all consuming rage, both in intention and actions.

It's everywhere, surrounding, trapping…

Inescapable.

The furious beat of my heart is the only sound in my ears, but my soul can hear another song…a lyrical poem I heard sung long ago by an old wizened man of war whose face was covered in burns… His whispering, weak rattle of a voice still echoes from within the chambers of my memories…

_Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!_

_You restless wall of flame._

_Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!_

_Your fury to never tame._

_You show no mercy – no regard:_

_A writhing army uncontrolled._

_At least you don't discriminate,_

_Selecting to exterminate:_

_All dealt with equal pain untold._

_Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!_

_You restless wall of flame. _

_Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!_

_Your fury to never tame._

_In time of drought you run amok – _

_An open chimney of the land._

_Prefer to scorch than suffocate:_

_In blinding zeal, incinerate_

_To blackened vista now unmanned._

_Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!_

_You restless wall of flame._

_Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!_

_Your fury to never tame._

_Destruction be your only goal_

_For you to vent your jealous wrath_

_On gentle life with caring soul_

_And human victims to console:_

_As you are none but psychopath._

_Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!_

_You restless wall of flame._

_Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!_

_Your fury to never tame._

_So there it is – you are but flame:_

_Reacting gases to adorn – _

_With orange flicks of flailing arms,_

_You're flaunting your demonic charms!_

_Now leave us for bereaved to mourn._

_Fire! Fire! Ferocious fire!_

_You restless wall of flame._

_Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!_

_Your fury to never tame._

_So many lives to claim._

Orange and red, yellow and blue the only sight I see.

Smoke the only thing that causes my eyes to water and my nose to clog with the smell of _pain. _

The damp sweat that has broken out across my entire body the only thing I feel.

_Ba-bump._

They have come.

_Ba-bump._

My lake…I left it…

_Ba-bump._

Why? _Why?!_

_Ba-bump._

Encaged. By them. Like last time. Flames lick at my heels greedily, smoke swarms into my lungs; an assassin of nature.

_Ba-bump._

It's hopeless…I can hear it already. Their laughter.

It's there, in the darkness…_them. _Those unholy demon spawn, offspring of the King of Hell's right-hand men, in the cruellest, most vicious part of the Underworld. If I believed in the Greek Myths, they would be my Tarturas. If I believed in Christianity, they would be the Snake of Eden. I dare not say any name of evil, for words have power, and power brings many a misfortune.

_Ba-bump._

Ironic. I don't believe, but I want to be believed in.

_Ba-bump._

The earth beneath my feet has grown warmer, and beside myself, a moan of premonition slips unbidden through my lips, as stealthy as any bandit in the night.

_Ba-bump. _

I close my eyes, let the darkness of my lids shut out the world…Allow sound, sight, smell and taste to fall away, until I'm trapped in my mind as I am trapped by fire. It's safer here.

Quieter.

I can't hear the thumping of my heart, the crackle of flames. The sensation of cool sweat has faded away, and my breaths are shallow and quick, the scent of smoke somewhere on the horizons of a distant thought.

It's better here.

But there's an irritating fly in my mind, one that I want to swat away viciously. It's insistent…_Zzzz…Zzzz…Zzzz…_ It's chasing away my peace.

I hate it for that.

But it won't go away, not 'til I've heeded its warning.

Groggy consciousness faces the stray, stubborn tendril of mental energy.

The sound of it flitting around in the confines of my mind are changing, transforming into a new sound, evolving into something much more disturbing.

_Zzzz…Zzzz…Zzzz…Hzzz…Hahazzz…Hahaha…Look…Him…Free…T aking…Worthless…Wind…Fire…Winter…Spirit…Dead…_

The fog clears. Dead.

_Dead!_

Now I want _out. _

They're going to _kill me!_

While I'm sitting right in front of them like a placid little girl about to be served up as a sacrifice to a malevolent deity.

_Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid!_

I'm clawing at the confines of my mind now, screaming silently. _Let me out!_ _Oh, please let me out! I need to GET OUT!_

And with that thought, smell comes rushing in. It's _burning _my lungs, that pungent odour.

Once again I can feel the sweat on my skin, but it's not cold anymore…

It's boiling.

Flames heat my face, so close that I can feel the tips of my eyelashes singe.

_I need to see. _The thought is a goal, and I focus all my concentration on opening those huge concrete walls of flesh.

Wind blows against my eyes, as if she's trying to remind me where they are.

_There. _It's as if I heard her whisper…but that's impossible. Wind has never spoken to me, only I to her.

Whether or not I'm hallucinating (I most likely am), the fact remains that she has helped.

I can feel two spots of skin that are cooler than the rest of my face. They're my eyes, And I'm going to open them.

But it's so _hard…! _

'Who's going to have some fun first?' a Spirit calls out in a sinister and sadistic voice, and my body shudders in horror.

Suddenly, I can remember how to lift my lids. They snap open as quickly as a hummingbird's wings, and the orbs sheltered behind them flicker around in panic, searching for the owner of _that voice. _

Red greets me. It leers above my head, giant walls of flickering energy.

And then I see _them. _Eyes of matching auburn, crimson and the yellow of unhealthy teeth stare in my direction, glaring at me with an indescribable _hate. _And something else…something I can't identify…

My heart pounds as furiously as a horse's hooves against the parched earth.

'Well, what do we have here?' the beast sneers at me, and my breath catches.

'Leave me be,' I command in what I hope is a strong voice. 'I have done you no wrong.'

'That's where you're incorrect,' A Spirit of Autumn steps forth. 'Your very _existence _mars my soul.' She claws at her heart, her chest heaving, orbs wide and cold. How can a Spirit clothed in warmth be fashioned from ice?

'Please,' I whisper brokenly. Wind curls around me gently, and once again, I feel as if I could hear her voice floating in the air, assuring me. _I'm here…_it seems to say in a heavy sigh…_Never let them hurt you…Shh…Here…_

'_Please,' _another mocks from within the cocoon of shadows. My cage of flame tightens, draws closer as if to remind me that it exists. I hunch my back and clutch my arms, desperate to make myself smaller. 'Please, don't hurt me! I'm just a worthless piece of -' he continues.

I block off my ears so that I don't have to hear the words, the insults. I chant in my mind;

_Words are empty,_

_Although they have plenty._

But someone is ripping my hands off of my ears, gripping my wrists so tightly that I can feel them bruise instantaneously. The Summer Spirit's breath is horrific and I gag. His greedy eyes are maniacal and can barely contain his evident glee. Licking his lips slowly, he strokes a hand against my cheek slowly, almost gently. The Wind tears at him, spits leafs and pebbles in his face furiously, but he uses his flames to deflect them easily. I struggle feebly against his iron hold, but it's fruitless. A smile curves at his lips. 'You're not getting away. Not this time,' He pulls me a little closer. 'Such a pretty thing,' he murmurs.

Fear grips me, and the ability of movement flees as a rabbit does a fox. The cruel Spirit supports my dead weight protectively. His smile is wider now, showing off dangerously sharp rows of rotted teeth.

'W-what?' I manage to gasp out.

'You're mine, little Jacqueline.' he pants. The Spirit runs his tongue over my cheek, but it feels as if he's dragged a poker down my face. My body is crushed against his, and shivers of terror race across my skin.

_He knows._

_They know._

_Little Jacqueline._

And then my world is drenched into the safety of unconsciousness.

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**Sorry guys. This is so late that I don't even know how to apologise. But in my defence, I'm writing exams (NOOO!). But by the end of November I'll be done – soon! Yay! Then it's reading and writing galore.**

**Big thanks to ****_every person that reviewed. _****Or favourite/ followed. You have no idea how happy you make me! Giant virtual bear hug! :D And thank you for all the poll-voting – I'll put the results up soon. (:**

**Snowflake; 'They' are the Spirits that are evil, conniving, malicious torturers of Jackie. (:**

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~Shadowed Violin~


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